Un Salto de Fe
by esmeeeeme
Summary: After the loss of her father and the orchard, Laura Boveri is sent to live with her aunt in the city of Rome. Shaken and distraught, she tries to adjust and find her way back into the world, only for years later to end up being part of an unraveling conflict that has been seeded into the new city she calls home.
1. Beginning

**I have a lot of feelings over my recruits in AC: Brotherhood and I've seen some really good novice fanfics on AO3 so why not? I've had this fic sitting in my drive for a long time and I wanted to polish it up and send it out. And honestly, looking back at all the writing that i have had done and not published to the world, i realized it was the internalized misogyny. Mary Sue this, Mary Sue that, so against it and shamed upon, that it was a taboo. But for many of us, it was an escape. Whether it be from the mundaneness of reality or even the dreadness we feel at home.**

 **I began my writing with OC fanfic, I grew from it. From all the fandoms I began to enter and enjoy. Looking back at the little happy Mexican girl that was so eager to write, to create characters and make them their own being. I miss that. I have evidently grown, since I'm no longer the shy middle schooler. Yeah, I am the sexy extroverted senior. I would like to thank the puberty fairy. And I figured, if I am going out with a bang this school year, so be it. To hell with the criticism and Mary Sue accusations. I'm gonna have fun. The timeline in this is going to be all during the Ezio trilogy and as of this one, this is currently during AC2. I obviously don't own Assassins Creed, only own Laura. Enjoy!**

Laura never thought her life would get to this.

She never thought about going to Rome. There wasn't a need to go to the large city when a town could maintain themselves. not when she had the acres full of apple trees growing on her family's land, not when there was a small village, perfect for her and her family.

Like the orchard, her roots were ingrained deep in the land, knowing the struggle and triumph of the Boveri family in bringing the orchard to life. Four proud generations have owned the land, cultivating apples that were rich in taste, yet humble at heart.

The Boveri Orchard, a name that always had a good taste.

There was a tree on the hill that overlooked the entire orchard. The tallest and oldest, branches sturdy enough to support a grown man. Laura had long desired to climb it, since it would be a change of pace. And what could she say, the height was impressive and she wanted to be at the top.

When she had reached the age of ten, she climbed the tree with determined courage and excitement. Took her maybe two hours and her arms stung from exhaustion, but it had all been worth it when she saw the land, her land, in all its glory.

The first time she had climbed a tree, it was part of a dare. The boys from the neighboring ranch taunted that she wasn't brave enough to climb to the to to the eagles deserted nest. And of course, she never got down from a dare.

She climbed and climbed, making sure the boys were watching. She was ready to prove them wrong.

Her mother scolded at her loudly, yelling "Laura Boveri, you are going to be punished! Get down on the ground on this instant!"

When Laura climbed down, her father laughed and laughed, ruffling her hair and saying that it was okay, that climbing was in her blood. "You're a Boveri!" he said. "Apple picking is in your blood! Anda, mia cara figlia, climb!"

Her mother cursed in mixed Spanish and Italian, while her father laughed and laughed, his laugh full and hearty. "Let her be, Maria!"

His joy and amusement brought her encouragement and she climbed the tree the next day.

She never lost balance, never feared the heights of being meters above the ground. When apple season came along, she didn't need a ladder; simply a large bag slung around her and her own wits. She would jump from branch to tree, tree to branch, a bright smile on her features.

Those were the innocent days, when running in the fields and learning how to mount of horse was seen as exciting. It was cleaning with her mother and helping her father, hiding in haystacks and jumping out to scare him and squealing with laughter when he would toss her up in the air. Not fearing the fall, only to be caught in his large, warm hands. It was seeing her mother be pregnant with her little brother and holding him in her chubby little arms nine months later.

It was 1468.

She had friends in the town and they would often go to play. Innocence came in form of being carefree. They were the happier days, when she didn't have to worry about the corruption, the inevitability of death. She didn't have to deal with the fear of loss constantly.

It wasn't ignorance. It was sparity. Being spared of the reality the real world was.

But all good things had to come to an end.

The innocence ended when Laura began seeing the problems brought by the greed of others. Men were after the land and wanted to buy it, not caring for the orchard but for the territory itself. To her disgust, she was sought after in marriage, something she didn't want to do. She was young, barely seventeen. But she was fit for marriage in the other's eyes. The village that was once seen as her haven, was now a place she was scared of walking through alone.

Her mother protected her. She always did. As did her father, turning down every offer of marriage. He didn't care for the dowry, didn't see the point in marrying Laura to a man old enough to be her grandfather. He didn't care, and maybe that was his downfall. He didn't care about the things others wanted him to do. Or even the things they wanted for him to be.

Who knew that not caring for the bad could be the worst thing it could be?

Life took a turn for the worst when the orchard burnt to the ground. Her mother and little brother had survived, but her father was lost. It was injustice, and by far the most painful thing she had to endure.

Unlike other memories, she didn't remember it all in detail. She only remembered smoke and burning. Chopped remnants of the memory, all hazy from the fire and fear.

Then it was off to Rome to live with her aunt and to run her restaurant and bakery, a little bistro that always smelled of fresh bread and served the working men and women during lunchtime.

For the first few months, she felt miserable. What was she supposed to do with all the noise? The smell was so different, everything was different. Rome was more diverse and populated, with so many noises and smells. She would hear the herald proclaiming to the city, the clanking from the blacksmith, horses

The debauchery of the brothels, the manure from the stables, god, it was disgusting.

She remembered climbing to the roof of her aunt's home that night and looking at the city. Trying to digest what was happening to her life. She thought everything was under control.

She cried. No, she wept. This was her life now. No longer living in the comfort and liberty of the countryside. No longer with her father. But now stuck in the big dirty city, with an aunt she barely knows, a bedridden mother and a younger brother that's too afraid to leave his room. She missed her youth, her happiness.

Things could not get worse than this.

 **It's a slow start, and Ezio will come in later, but for now, Laura is just being introduced. There will be more plot, trust me, it will come. Thank you for reading!**


	2. Scratch

**took me long enough huh? I'm back! Enjoy!**

* * *

She rolled out of bed and saw her deep red dress on the chair. It was always her favorite. Every Monday, she went to check inventory and had to go down to the market. Passing the tailor, waving to the blacksmith, bewaring of the thieves, smiling to the courtesans.

It had come to Laura's knowledge that the courtesans were kind girls who, like the rest of Roma, just wanted to make a living. After learning that fact from her aunt, she understood why they did it.

Her aunt was on good terms with the brothel's owners and always sent some finished bread their way.

She wasn't exactly surprised so to say because it was bound to happen at one point. When she went to the market to pick up more vegetable produce, she could hear the herald proclaim announcements from the Vatican, also from the rest of Europe. Condolences extending to the kingdom of Britain of their loss over an ambassador. Cristobal Colon making more journeys westward. Spaniard expansion and such.

She could care less of what the rest of the world was up to.

Not when she had to help a restaurant to run, or when she had to worry about the city she lived in being under rule of corruption.

It was a good life.

She rinsed her face with cold water and braided her hair into a simple, long braid down her back. It was enough to stay out of the way for the time being, maybe when she was going to work with the oven, she would make it into a tight bun.

"Lau!"

Antonio ran into her small bedroom.

 _"Buongiorno,"_ Laura greeted. "What is it, Toni?"

"It's Eva!"

"What about her?"

"The thieves are harassing her," Toni said.

Annnnnnnnnd just like that, her good mood was gone.

"Toni," Laura said calmly. "Do me a favor, won't you?"

"What kind?"

Laura reached into her bag and handed him a handful of Florins. "Go to the blacksmith and ask him for a sharp dagger. Right now."

"You're going to hurt the thieves?"

"Of course."

"That's my _sorella_ ," Antonio grinned. "Always ready for a fight."

"Exactly. Get to it, Toni, we don't have a lot of time."

"Hecho yhecho!"

* * *

"Who is the owner of this establishment?" the thief demanded to a pale, shaking Eva.

"I am."

All eyes fell onto Laura.

She saw the shocked look on the blacksmith.

It wasn't much of a lie. Her aunt had been away in Venice for a couple of days.

"She is a cook, let her go. If you have questions, they come to me," Laura said.

"You have evaded taxes."

"We have paid our dues."

"Where's your warrant? Where's your claim? Ask _il bancario_ , we have an account with the bank. Everything has been turned in. Now, if you excuse me-"

"Oh no, no, no, little _ragazza_ ," one of the thieves reached out to grab Laura's elbow. "You're coming with us."

"Ha! You're funny," Laura mocked. "I'm staying right here, thank you."

"We have much discussion to do," the thief said.

"Why can't we discuss right here?"

"It's a private matter."

This time, a thief grabbed her by the waist and Laura slapped his hand away. "No _,_ " she said, hearing the muttered curse from the blacksmith. "I am not going anywhere with a _chorro de pendejos."_

"Signora Laura!" Eva called out. "Don't do it!"

"We're going to discuss this, right here, and right now. I'm going nowhere with you scum of the city."

"Say that again?"

"Did I stutter? I said, I am not going anywhere with a bunch of cockless, worthless, ball of _pendejos_!"

"Laura!"

The dagger was slid on the floor and in the nick of time, Laura stepped on the handle. She bent down to pick it up.

"Well boys? Are we going to stand around here all day, or are we going to fight?"

"Let's teach her a lesson!"

"Merde!"

" _Figlio di un fottuto cagna_!" Laura yelled, straggling back and clutching at her nose. "Son of a fucking bitch!"

"Again, Laura?"

Looking up, Laura saw the very disappointed face of Adriana, her best friend. Bright sky blue eyes and long blonde hair.

"Oh, hello there," Laura said casually, trying to ignore the pain stabbing through her side. "How goes things?"

"Laura."

"Lovely weather, isn't it?"

Adriana rolled her eyes and groaned, bending down to pick Laura up.

"Let's go, Laura."

"It's only a scratch!"

"Let's go, Laura."

Laura groaned but let her be dragged along.

* * *

"Ow!" Laura hissed as Adriana wiped the cloth with antiseptic on the side of her face.

"Hold still," Adriana said, ignoring her protests.

Around her knuckles were bandages that Adriana had cleaned and wrapped. Small cuts, only needing thin cloth, but still secured nevertheless.

Laura's dress was dirty and ruined, her braid undone and tangled. She sat on the table behind the restaurant area, arms crossed as Adriana cleaned the cut on the side of her face.

"You need to quit doing this," Adriana said.

"Quit doing what?"

"Getting yourself hurt."

"Lau. Look at me."

Laura refused, looking away.

"Laura."

"No."

"Laura Boveri, look at me."

With a sigh, she turned to face Adriana.

"One day, you will get killed doing this reckless behavior."

"I'm sick of their bullshit," Laura said. "Negotiations won't work anymore."

"Yeah, but that doesn't give you an excuse to go in blind and fight with _thieves,_ " Adriana said. "What if the thieves were worse? What if they were Borgias?"

"Then it would be much more bloodier on their end."

Adriana shook her head. "You don't understand. Are you listening to yourself? I don't want you to get hurt anymore by getting into fights like this."

"Then what the hell can I do?" Laura asked. "I'm sick of their bullshit. I'm sick of being pushed around. I'm sick of it."

"I know," Adriana said. "I know and I understand."

Laura bit her bottom lip and sighed, irritated. Adriana meant well, but she couldn't understand. She couldn't know where she was coming from, because their upbringings were so different.

Almost like she could sense her unsettlement, Adriana sighed and sat down next to her on the table. She scooted closer to her and reached for her hand, one that Laura tugged away from her grip. She spoke in a more softer tone.

"Laura, please."

Laura didn't look at Adriana.

"Hey, _mirame_."

"Don't pick fights you will know you will lose," Adriana said, tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear. "I know fighting comes to you naturally like a minstrel and obnoxiousness, but learn to choose your battles wisely. Because one day, I won't be here to get you out of them."

"Don't say that," Laura said. "Don't say that, please." Her grip on the arms of the chair grew tight, some of the small cuts on her knuckles stinging in protest. "Don't say things like that."

"Sometimes, you're not guaranteed to live out your full life," Adriana said with a slight shrug. "It's dangerous times we live in."

"Adriana, _don't-_ Damn it, don't say things like that.I don't want to think of losing you."

"Then you know how I feel," Adriana replied. She crossed her arms. "Now you get the hint. Every time, _every_ time I hear that you get in a fight, I get scared that it might be the last time I would see you again."

"But let's be honest, the only reason they spared you was because you didn't annoy them enough," Adriana said with a slight grin.

Laura elbowed Adriana but still smiled, "They knew that they needed someone around to bug you."

"Is that so?"

"Oh yeah."

* * *

 **Reviews are gr8!**


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